


thinking of you won't help me to do all that you dreamed I could

by forestmagicwithin



Series: what they were living (sanders sides) [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 19:09:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20120185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forestmagicwithin/pseuds/forestmagicwithin
Summary: Logan and Roman break up, and Patton tries to help by bringing Logan to a familiar office.





	thinking of you won't help me to do all that you dreamed I could

Logic breathed in and out, reminding himself to continue doing so at a measured pace. He had no reason to worry; besides, the task of worrying could hardly fall to him.

He straightened his tie, examining it in the mirror. It was an older one, one of the only two he’d retired before he and Roman had become romantically inclined toward one another. He’d rid his collection of the ties he’d possessed during that time. He glanced at one of his many clocks, aware that he would need to schedule time to craft new ones. Two ties were plenty, of course, but he appreciated the variety.

He felt the tug of Thomas’s own schedule urging him to the door. Giving the mirror a final inspection, he took another deep breath.

Logic was not the last to arrive in the kitchen. Customarily, he was the first, occasionally second to Anxiety, but the others didn’t acknowledge the change. Morality offered him a plate with two pancakes, smiling to match the happy face he’d drawn in whipped cream.

He accepted the plate, giving Morality an appreciative nod. Despite the unnecessary cream, Morality knew how to fix his pancakes exactly as Logic needed in order to optimally enjoy them, with the correct ratio of blueberries to strawberries. He counted them, a regular ritual performed as a comfort rather than an informative action. The number was always the same; he’d know even without counting.

Deceit settled into the chair next to him, entirely too close for comfort. “Mmm, precious Princey not quite make it to the table today? Dear me, I wonder where he could be.”

_ Roman does not appreciate the use of that nickname _ . Logic considered his options, knowing he could either increase the distance between him and Deceit for comfort or stay and refuse to let the other-sides provoke a reaction.

A spatula lightly swatted Deceit’s shoulder. Morality’s chastising look earned a smirk from Deceit, but he backed off, if only by a few inches. Logic could have calculated it if he had desired to. He found he did not care.

“I’ll take these up to him.” Morality held up a plate stacked with five pancakes. “Nothing like a hearty breakfast to get the thoughts going!”

“Oh, we’re going, alright.” The Duke dropped down from the ceiling in a shower of red. The plate was barely saved from the deluge by Morality’s terrified retreat. He made his way to the stairs before the Duke could do anything more sinister.

Empathy ignored the disturbance. He clicked his remote, bringing Thomas’s visual to hover above the table. They all knew, as parts of him, what Thomas was experiencing at all times, but the visual aide provided further insight at times. Empathy was especially fond of the tool.

Deceit tilted his head, interested. “Cereal right from the box for the third day in a row. I suppose once again Remy will fail to make an appearance.”

“He is where Thomas needs him to be,” Logic replied.

“Please, he’s  _ almost _ as responsible as  _ me _ ,” the Duke countered. He had taken the form of a miniature pirate ship sailing the red puddle, with a severed hand holding up a caricatured pirate flag.

The remote clicked again as Empathy shut off the visual. “Remy can be selfish with Thomas’s time when given the chance,” he admitted, glancing at Logic. “In this case, though, I’d say that time is fair.”

Beside him, Anxiety looked up at Empathy, frowning for a moment.

Logic stood. Half a pancake was left, but the value of leaving now was higher than staying to finish. He vanished the plate without hesitation and returned upstairs without comment.

He had a lot of work to do, now that that work could be done.

* * *

Logic’s workspace had been refusing him progress for the past three hours. The ideas insisted on holding shapes too blurred to make sense of, the images too fuzzy to piece together. The whole space was grey, with an odd background buzzing noise that refused to cease.

“You too, huh.”

He turned, finding Sleep watching him. He considered objecting to the unannounced presence before simply nodding.

Sleep took a sip of his Starbucks. “Creativity’s place is a total downer. I don’t think he’s tried to create since Saturday. Don’t get me wrong, it was a dump before then, but now everything’s all… sharp. Snagged my jacket last time, so that’s the last time I’ll ever check into that place.” His nose wrinkled in distaste.

The usual effect Logic felt from Sleep was becoming overpowering. His exhaustion was much more potent than it should have been, considering the past couple days. Logic frowned, eyes heavy. “Are you having difficulty functioning?”

“Me? Darling, really, I’d think Logic of all sides would know. Who do you think is running Thomas’s imagination these days, with Roman not working?”

Logic closed his eyes for a moment. “Of course. Perhaps make sure Anxiety isn’t in the dreamscape tonight.”

“As if I don’t always check, babe.” It was difficult to ascertain due to Sleep’s sunglasses, but Logic believed he’d just rolled his eyes. “Anyway, don’t work tonight. Or- try to work, I should say.” He was gone before Logic could object.

Resigned, Logic returned to his room. In an attempt to improve his concentration, he sketched a few concepts for new ties. His concentration did not improve.

If Thomas did not want him to work, he could not. The very fact that Logic wanted to attempt it, however, made it clear that Thomas did desire in some fashion to be productive. Still, Logic alone could not push through his lack of motivation.

There were footsteps in the hall. He paused, concerned that they were Roman’s. That they were approaching his door. That Roman would come to him, with tears and apologies and convincing words, perhaps letters and roses and sonnets on scented paper. Even a love song. He was certainly fond of large gestures.

The footsteps passed. Logic let out a breath, having been unaware he’d been holding it in.

He recalled the fighting, the constant disagreements, the power plays and unfair tricks. He sensed the torn-up scraps in his desk drawer that had once been Thomas’s schedule of two weeks ago, ruined by the warring sides as they struggled to fit both of themselves into it. He remembered the half-apologies, the false make-ups, the return again and again to destructive patterns. He heard Anxiety’s voice, all those snide comments about why they would never work. He remembered the Duke in the background, taking over whenever Roman was distracted and making things worse. He remembered Roman’s face as Logic told him it had to end. That all of it had to end.

His name. Logic should stop using it, now that their… intimate relations had ceased. It wouldn’t be right to continue.

“Creativity,” he said. He repeated the word, reaffirming its meaning. “Creativity.”

He sketched a map of Thomas’s mind. Sleep’s dreamscape, Morality’s emotional store, Anxiety’s horde, Empathy’s self-space, his own workplace, the imagination, their rooms, everything. He stared at the divisions.

It was a map he’d recreated time and time again. The very structure of Thomas reminded him why he and Creativity could never share their lives. Their basic purposes would always come between them. This was as it should be.

He vanished the sketch.

* * *

A firm knock; there was no point in a quiet one, as that would defeat its very purpose.

Beside him, Morality hummed, bouncing on his heels.

Empathy opened the door. Surprised, he stepped back, blinking a few times. “Oh- Logan. And Patton, how wonderful to see you.”

Morality beamed. “Hello, Doctor. Just thought we’d pop by for a little visit, get some concerns out on your table- or couch, as it were.” He giggled, pleased with himself. Logic tried to envision how their concerns could be placed on any of Empathy’s furniture. He hoped Morality wasn’t planning on calling Creativity here. 

“Of course, you’re all more than welcome to drop by anytime.” Empathy beckoned them in, waving a hand to store the conceptualizations he must’ve been working on before their arrival.

“I hope we aren’t disturbing anything important,” Logic said, remaining to stand as Morality dropped to the couch with his usual energy.

Empathy dismissed this concern easily. “They’re just a couple of concept models I’m working on, new aides. They’ll be highly advanced when they’re finished, I’m so excited to start working with them- but. We aren’t here to discuss that, are we?”

“Afraid not, Doc. Roman’s sort of taken a backseat to the rest of us here, and we were hoping you’d be able to get him back on his feet again.”

Empathy smiled, patient as always with Patton. “Roman knows he is free to come to me anytime. Your concern for him is admirable, but situations like this cannot be forced.”

“If it were only his lack of work ethic lately, I am sure all would be well,” said Logic. “But his actions are affecting Thomas. The lack of unity between his Logic and Creativity is difficult enough without Creativity performing as usual.”

The chair creaked as Empathy sat back, considering. Morality twiddled his thumbs. He knew better than the rest what Thomas was feeling right now. 

“Thomas is certainly doubting himself right now,” said Empathy. “His dreams aren’t lining up with his reasonable methods. He wants to take more chances, but he’s afraid of the long-term implications and the uncertainty of success. Currently, it’s difficult for him to find the motivation to pursue any of them.”

Logic closed his eyes. “I know,” he said, quietly. He was half of the problem.

But Creativity needed to leave his room and do his job. Logic was just as miserable as he, yet Logic didn’t let it affect Thomas.

Empathy placed a hand on the couch near Logic. He knew better than to touch him.

“Roman is feeling and doing what he needs to right now.” He met Logic’s eyes, raising an eyebrow. “We’re his psyche; things like this happen within everyone’s, it’s part of growing up and finding who you are. Everyone loses direction sometimes. No one is expecting you to act like nothing happened, like nothing’s bothering you.”

He sensed Morality look up at him. “Remy says you can’t work. It’s not Thomas stopping you, Lo, it’s… you.”

Surprised, Logic met his eyes. They were sincere.

“Are you sure there’s nothing we can do to get Roman back on his feet?” Morality asked.

Empathy shrugged. “It’s never a bad thing to let someone know you’re there for them. Perhaps Thomas would begin feeling better if Roman formed a closer bond with another side. If all he wants is space, however, you need to give it to him.”

* * *

The list was short. Logic tapped his pen against his desk, searching his mind for anything to add. He was following an exercise Empathy had given him, to help ease some of the distress he felt.

He’d listed everything he felt, about Creativity and the breakup and his own struggle to leave. Afterwards, he was supposed to write down a way to ease each negative feeling. Morality had already offered to help with it, but he wasn’t sure he could accept the other side’s help yet.

He closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. He wasn’t being active enough to disturb Remy’s work, but he knew he needed to rest. He’d gotten no sleep at all a couple nights ago, and that was likely still impairing his functions.

Lying in bed, he reached out a hand, hesitating.

He’d been doing so well, not wallowing in memories or what-could-have-beens. However, Empathy had said it was important to process what he was feeling, and anything that could help him move on from this faster was worth trying.

He tapped the air lightly, summoning a memory. The two of them rose up, ghosts of what had been; they’d been trying to work out which choice to take, when Thomas was faced with two paths. Creativity had advocated for the risk, insisting that one couldn’t always be certain of the outcome but that it was okay.

He’d wanted the structured path. The one with clear goals and how-to’s. The one that had to end in success, because it was safe.

Creativity hadn’t understood that, knowing how much Logic liked a challenge. He’d never quite understood how his version of a challenge differed from Logic’s.

He watched the memories debate for a while. Eventually, Creativity looked up, placing a hand over Logic’s. At the time, that had been an understood compromise. That gesture meant  _ Okay, let’s do it your way. _

Their give-and-take dynamic used to be enough. But Logic won too much of the time, and Creativity had had it. That’s when the fights had begun. Studying the past, Logic wondered if Creativity had felt that frustration then.

He cleared the air again. There was no use wondering like that. He needed rest, and tomorrow, he could work on the list.

**Author's Note:**

> Logan does know everyone's names (or at least the light sides's names), but this work takes place before the start of the Sanders Sides video series. Names have different meanings to each character, and the way each side uses names is a reflection of that.


End file.
